The Results

The Results

(a cold tale)

“ Bishal, you need to work harder”, said the class teacher as he handed Bishal his mark sheet. He was completely broken when he came to know he had failed yet again. Mathematics-35* (F). Bishal held back his tears and walked away folding his mark sheet. Bishal was a 10^th grader who
always failed in Mathematics. No matter how hard he tried, he could never pass. It was the third term results. His parents worried a lot as he would never pass in all the subjects. He was supposed to take the SLC exams that year, but no one was sure he would even pass in the Send-up exams which was to take place in a month. He got out of the school premises walking in agony. He had tried his level best that time around. He was confident that he would pass. “ Mom , Dad-Don’t worry, I’ll surely pass this time, trust me”, he had said to his parents the day before. He walked up to a tree, and sat beneath it. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Three months earlier    

“ What the hell do you study ? Is your mind full of shit ? You can’t even pass a subject. You’re failing in Mathematics for over two years now. What’s wrong is you, huh ?  It’s not for us. You are the one who will be appearing for SLC exams this year. Haven’t we given you good food to eat, good clothes to wear ? If I had gotten even a little of what you’re getting, I would have considered myself the luckiest fellow in the world”, said Bishal’s father and stormed out of the room. Bishal , with his head, down couldn’t utter a word. His mother tried to comfort him. It was the second term results which didn’t go well for Bishal. Mathematics- a subject Bishal understood nothing of. Bishal’s father yelled to have him served food. Bishal’s mother asked him to come to the dinner, but he refrained. He walked into his room and locked the door.

“ What a shame to me as well. All of my friend’s children study so well, and this boy-useless, completely useless. I don’t know when he is going to understand that it’s for his career, his life. Hopeless boy”, Bishal’s father was uttering aggressively. Bishal’s mother requested him to keep quiet. She served the food for Bishal as well and took it to his room. “ Bishal, it’s me. Please open the door”, she said. “ Please leave me alone, just leave me alone”, a voice answered from inside. She insisted on opening the door. Finally, Bishal opened the door. His mother went inside and asked him to have some food. “I don’t want to”, answered Bishal. “ You ought to. Listen, don’t panic. Join the tuitions classes right away starting tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll make it next time. Show your father that his son is not a loser. C’mon, have this food for now…………”

   

From that day onwards, Bishal had given everything into his study. He would wake up early and went for tuition classes. He would stay up late practising Maths. He was determined. His parents were pleased to see him working hard. “I’ve gotta prove myself”,he would say to himself. Three months of desperate determination had passed. Yet, he had failed again. All of his hard work and toil had gone in vain. His cell phone rang. ”Mom calling”, the screen read. He couldn’t pick up the call. He just ignored. The calls kept on coming. He heard his father’s words echoing all over his head “and this boy-useless, completely useless. I don’t know when he is going to understand that it’s for his career, his life. Hopeless boy “.

The cell phone ceased ringing after he switched off his cell phone. He was hopelessly stooping when a man approached him. “Hey! Bishal, how are your results this time?”, asked Mr. Shrestha, Bishal’s Science teacher. Bishal said nothing-just stared blankly at him. He took out the folded mark sheet from his pocket and handed it to Mr. Shrestha. “Oh I see!”, he exclaimed. Bishal had always been open to Mr. Shrestha. Bishal told him how he had given his cent percent, but still failed. He even told what was it like in his home and his parents’ expectations from him. Bishal told him he had given up then, that he  no longer hoped for a better future. They were quiet for some ten seconds. “Come with me”, said Mr. Shrestha. He took Bishal by his hand.

A few minutes later, they were in Mr. Shrestha’s room, who lived a few yards from the school. He offered Bishal to have a cup of tea. Bishal thanked but refused. “I’ve got to show you something”, said Mr. Shrestha. He opened his closet, and took out some documents. Amid the documents, there were some mark sheets. They were seated on the sofa. Mr. Shrestha put all those mark sheets on the table and asked Bishal to go through them. Red marks-Bishal could see vividly. “Back in my school days, I wasn’t a bright student either. You can see here how I used to fail”, added Mr. Shrestha as he showed Bishal his results of 8^th grade. “ I know that feel, Bishal. I’ve gone through it. I know how people around you expect from you, but you can’t meet those expectations. I had just managed to pass by a narrow margin in the 9^th grade. While in the 10^th grade, I improved my studies a little bit, and I passed SLC with a satisfactory mark, but certainly not a very good one”, said Mr. Shrestha.

Bishal couldn’t believe that Mr. Sherstha used to fail in the exams in his school days. He was one of the most talented teachers in the school. He was such a good teacher that everybody had a deep respect for him. “ Sir, it’s not that I didn’t try. I had given my best, but still….”, Bishal couldn’t complete what he was saying as Mr. Shrestha interrupted,” Don’t take it too much on your mind. You have done better than the previous term. Just some more marks and you are there-passed in all the subjects.”

Meanwhile, Bishal’s mother was worrying a lot. She had dialed the number, goodness knows, how many times, but Bishal hadn’t picked up the call. She even called Bishal’s friends, but they told no one of them had seen Bishal that day. So she went to his father and told him Bishal was not picking up the calls, and had switched off his cell phone. “I’m afraid that he’s going to something stupid. He might have failed again. I’m really worried. Where has he gone ? Let’s go the school. We might get to know his whereabouts”, said Bishal’s mother with a worried look on her face. Bishal’s father sighed and said,”He’ll be back. You are just worrying too much. But how did he fail this time around? I mean, he has been pretty serious these days when it comes to studies.” Bishal’s mother pleaded a lot so Bishal’s father finally agreed to go the school. Bishal’s father started his bike and the couple left for the school.

“Yes, he collected his mark sheet and left. Didn’t he reach home ?”, asked the class teacher. Bishal’s parents knew he had failed again. They asked the class teacher when he had collected the mark sheet. “Around 11”, came the reply. It was already haft past eleven. “ He must be somewhere near. Let’s search for him”, said Bishal’s mother who was sobbing. A year ago, Bishal had threatened his parents that he would kill himself, and hadn’t returned home the whole afternoon. Finally, his parents traced him out. He was at his friend’s place. However, it was all different that day. Despite his hard work, he had failed. That must be very frustrating for him. His parents began to search for him frantically, but couldn’t find him. So they finally decided to go to the police.

Mr. Shrestha was indeed an inspiration to Bishal. He also gave him some tips so he could pass. Bishal realised that his mother must have been worried. So he switched on his cell phone. No sooner had he switched on the cell phone than he got a call from the school.

“Hello!”
“ Is it Bishal speaking ?”
“Yes”
“We’ve been trying to call you for the last few minutes. Earlier, your parents were here. They were worried about you.  We have some good news for you. Actually, the results have been misplaced. You have passed in all the subjects. We tried to tell this to your parents first as we had told them that you have failed again. But they aren’t picking up the calls.”
“Really ?”
“Sorry for the inconvenience. Just hurry up and collect your mark sheet right away.”
“I’m on my way.”

Mr. Shrestha inquired whose call it had been. Bishal told him what had gone wrong. They both smiled at each other. Mr. Sherstha was proud of Bishal. He thanked Mr. Shrestha for his support, and bade him goodbye. The sky had just gotten clear for Bishal-the dark clouds were off. There was a pleasant aroma in the air-a different freshness.

Mathematics-65. Percentage:66.73%. Bishal was so pleased to see these figures. His hard work had paid off. He was so eager to show this to his parents. He dialed his mother’s number, but there was no response from the other end. He thought they might have returned home. Bishal was on his way home. On the way, he got another call from a new number.

“Hello!”
“Bishal”
“Yes”
“ Where are you now ?”
“I didn’t recognize you. Do I know you ?”
“ Please rush to…….”

The man on the phone gave Bishal an address. Bishal rushed to the place. When he reached there, he was terrified by the scene-his parents in a pool of blood. “Spot death-got hit by a micro bus. Poor couple”, someone was murmuring. A large crowd had gathered. The police was there as well. Nobody even thought of taking the couple to the hospital as one could easily make out they had died already. When the police arrived, one of the policemen had made a call to Bishal as they got his number from the dead’s phones. Bishal’s world turned upside down. Expressions were washed off his face. He was an orphan then. He let out a frantic cry. The damned mark sheet floated in the air which had slipped off from Bishal’s hand as he ran towards the corpses.